


From Here To Eternity

by HallucinogenicPandas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Awww yeah get ready for porn, Closing the gates of Hell, Demon Sex, Demon tablets, Demon!Dean, Hunter!Cas, I don't even know how to tag this properly there's just too much guys, M/M, Prophet!Chuck, human!Cas, i'm done, if you haven't watched it then you're still good, it's not that important, one-night stand, some minor Dark Angel stuff at the beginning, torture maybe?, you guys might hate me at the end of this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallucinogenicPandas/pseuds/HallucinogenicPandas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been sent to kill the hunter known as Castiel, but no one said he couldn't have a little fun with the human first. Unfortunately, after Dean has had his fun, he can't bring himself to kill Castiel, and eventually finds himself falling in love with his enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! so, just a few notes here, just to let you know, there's some Dark Angel stuff at the beginning, and if you haven't watched it DON'T WORRY! Or worse yet, DON'T STOP READING. Seriously. The Dark Angel stuff isn't that important, just, if you're curious, Alec McDowell is played by Jensen Ackles, so that's why that's there. Look up pictures of Alec. He's too sexy not to. So yeah, I hope you enjoy this, and if you're reading this, I'm very honored. Unless of course you're reading this and feeding information about it to an obscure government agency, then I'm not honored at all and am very insulted.

Working at a hospital, Dr. Sam Carr had learned to distance himself emotionally from the patients, because if he didn't, he'd probably have about ten emotional breakdowns a day. Occasionally, though, he just couldn't help it. One such occasion was the case of Alec McDowell. Dr. Carr still remembered the day two years previous when Alec had been rolled in on a stretcher, doctors running all around him, with his tearful wife, Rachel, following behind. There had been a gas leak in their car, and Alec, smelling the leak, had pushed his wife out of the way just before the car erupted into flames. The shock of the blast had knocked the couple backwards, and while Rachel had been unharmed, Alec had hit his head, and never woken up.

He wasn't dead,though, and that was all part of the problem. The night of the McDowell's accident was two years ago. Every day, Rachel would come in and visit her husband, and the sight of her crying by his bedside broke Dr. Carr's heart. Especially when he noticed how Rachel's stomach seemed to bulge every day, and about nine months after the accident, she came to the hospital, but didn't go to her husband's room. She spent that night in the maternity ward. Every day after that, she would bring her baby to the hospital, and tell her child how great his daddy was, and that one day they'd get to meet.

Tonight, though, that would all change. Alec McDowell would no longer be a patient in Seattle Mercy Hospital, because after two years, he was done fighting. He was legally considered braindead. The doctor stood near the back of the room while he waited for the family to have their last moments together.

"Simon, honey, say goodbye to Daddy."

"Bye, Daddy." The child spoke softly, sensing his mother's distress. He turned to look at her. "Mommy, you said Daddy'd get better."

"I know, sweetie. I'm sorry." She picked up her child and went to leave the room.

"Now, Rachel, are you sure you don't want to be here when we unplug life support?"

"I'm sure, Dr. Carr. I... I just... I can't..." She started crying again.

"I know. How about I escort you to your car?"

"I'd like that. Thank you for everything." She sniffed in an attempt to stop the flow of tears, but a few rogue drops escaped down her cheeks anyway.

"You're very welcome Rachel."

Dr. Carr walked the broken family out to their car, saying his last goodbyes, and trying to comfort Rachel a little bit. One his way back inside, he shivered a little as his breath escaped in a white puff. He should have grabbed his coat. It was January, after all. 

When the doctor returned to Alec's room, he noticed two male nurses standing sheepishly outside of  the door.

"Did you unplug the life support machine?"

"Well, yeah, we did, but um... about that..." One muttered. His nametag read "Sketchy."

"He be gone, mon." The other one stated. His nametag read "Herbal."

"Well, Herbal, I was aware of that. That's why I told you to unplug life support while I walked Mrs. McDowell to her car."

"That's 'a not what I'm sayin' mon. I mean not gone to the almighty, I mean he walked away up outta that hospital bed, mon."

"Excuse me?"

"What Herbal's trying to say, sir, is that at soon as we unplugged life support, this black smoke-stuff came down and covered him completely. Then, once the smoke cleared, he sat up, looked around, and jumped out of the window."

"What? Boys, if something happened, you can just tell me. You don't have to lie."

"We 'ain't lyin' mon."

"Let me see." Dr. Carr pushed his way into the room, anxious to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. True enough, Alec's bed was empty, and the window sat ajar. However, when Dr. Carr crossed the room to the window and looked down, there was nothing at the bottom. No splat, nothing. "Well, then where's the body?"

"Well, sir, you see sir, once he jumped out, Herbal and I went to inspect the damage, and he was gone. Vanished into thin air."

Dr. Carr put his hand to his head and sighed. No one was going to believe this. Hell, he didn't even believe it. Alec McDowell was dead. Dead men don't just get up and walk, and they certainly don't disappear into thin air. What the hell was he supposed to tell Rachel?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Dean stood on the roof of the hospital, his black eyes glinting in the moonlight. He let the breeze blow through his thin hospital gown, while he stretched out his new body. The one formerly owned by Alec McDowell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so we're kind-of getting out of the Dark Angel stuff here, and by "kind-of" I mean we totally are. Except for the ghost at the beginning, ignore that. Feedback is totally welcome. Later, bitches.

Castiel stood above the open grave, feeling the heat from the flames hit his face, and he leaned into it, breathing out a puff of white into the cold January air. The hunt had been successful, and hopefully the local police force would no longer be in danger of getting their necks snapped. Once the flames died down, Castiel covered his hand with a spare rag and retrieved his lighter from the bottom of the hole where Annie Fisher’s body once resided, now turned to ash. He grabbed his shovel from the ground, and put it in the back of his Honda Accord, along with his duffel. Once on the road, Castiel’s phone rang, and he’d hardly pressed his finger to the call button before he was being yelled at.

“You Idjit! What the hell were you thinking? You know the rules, Cas. No hunting alone! Even Garth-“

“Bobby. I know what I’m doing. It was just a small case.”

“You of all people should know that there’s no such thing, Cas. How long have you been a hunter, again?”

“Long enough. I’m twenty six, Bobby. I can take care of myself.”

“Like hell you can. I remember when you used to cry when watching Bambi.”

“They killed his mom, Bobby!”

“Yeah, whatever. My point is, when did you become Mr. Macho “What? You want to go hunting? I’ll go hunting, I can kill anything.”?”

“Does it matter?”

“Obviously, Idjit. You wouldn’t have snuck off without telling me if you didn’t think I’d be angry.”

“Don’t worry, Bobby. I’m on my way back right now.”

“Where did you even go?”

“Seattle. It’s late, so I’m probably going to spend the night in town, and then get going in the morning. Unless you want me to go straight to Sioux Falls.”

“No, get your rest, but be prepared for a shit storm when you get home, son.”

“Wow, Bobby. I didn’t know you cared that much.”

“You know I do, Cas, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What then?”

“Jody. I hid her gun so that she can’t shoot you, but she’s still a trained officer of the law. You're gonna be in a world a hurt when you get home. That woman's hell to live with."

"I heard that!" came a muffled voice from Bobby's end. 

Castiel chuckled. "Well I'm not the one who married her."

"Yeah, but you are the closest thing we have to a son, so I'm not just gonna let you die. Neither is Jody."

"Bobby..."

"No. you listen to me. Next time you want to go off on your own and be an idiot, just think about what it'd do to us if you were gone. Now just get home."

"Alright Bobby. I'll see you in a couple of days." Castiel sighed.

"Yeah, sure thing, idjit." The line went dead, and Castiel set his phone back down, making a mental note to turn it off the next time he went on a hunt by himself. Bobby was like a father to him, but he could handle himself. Even if he couldn't, it didn't matter. Maybe that's what he really wanted. To never be able to go on a hunt ever again because he was gone. That's what happens to all hunters eventually.

He ran a hand through his already messy hair. It was way too late to be driving. Having come to this decision, he pulled over to a sleazy looking motel in the middle of the city. It was dirty, had cockroaches under the toilet seat, and charged by the hour, but it had a bar right across the street, so it was wonderful. After a long day of grave desecration, all one really wants is some alchohol to dull the senses and the memories of what you've seen. Castiel walked into the heat and sweat of the bar, and attempted to get lost in decadence, because that's what decadence is for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean sat at the bar, nursing his whiskey. He wasn't drinking as much as usual since he had to keep focused. Not that alchohol really affected him, but it didn't help him much, either. The hunter was sitting on the other end of the bar, throwing back shots, and for someone who'd kill Dean in a heartbeat, he looked kind-of innocent. That is, he looked innocent until you looked into his eyes. One flash of stormy-sky blue, and you'd never be able to stop imagining all the crap he'd seen. He was a hunter, so it made sense. It couldn't be any worse that what the demon himself had seen. Dean wasn't sure why Abbadon and Crowley wanted him dead, but if they were agreeing on something it must be pretty fucking important.

Normally, since it wasn't wise of him to gank the dude in the middle of the bar, he'd lure him outside, and slit his throat in the bathroom or alleyway or something. In this case, though, he might actually have to resort to offing him in the middle of the bar, since the only thing this guy seemed interested in was his drink. Girls and even a couple of dudes had been coming up to him all night, and he'd politely declined all of them. The same thing had been happening to Dean all night as well, but he'd declined less politely. Apparently, he'd chosen a quite attractive vessel this time. He'd really hit the jackpot, with him going brain dead right when Dean needed his body, and the nurses' reactions had been priceless. he'd almost been tempted to possess the dude while the wife was still in the room, but something stopped him.

Dean shook his head at the memory. He did not feel sorry for her. He was demon, for fuck's sake. He didn't have feelings. The only reason he waited was because it would have caused more problems for him. He would have had to explain that he wasn't her husband, and so on. 

Dean looked back towards the hunter, making sure he hadn't left while he lost himself in his thoughts, but instead of catching the back of his head like he'd been doing all night, he found a lazer beam of blue staring a hole through him, and Dean finally realized why so many people had been approaching him all night. Dean could tell from what little of his profile he'd seen that the dude was attractive, but the side of his head really didn't do him justice. Looking at him full on was almost enough to make Dean feel sorry for what he had to do to this guy. Almost.

The hunter kept his eyes locked to Dean's, and Dean stared right back with almost as much intensity. He knew what to do now. He threw back his drink, stood up, and crossed the room to the hunter's seat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel had felt eyes on the back of his head the whole time he was at the bar, and it made him nervous. The only time he felt like that was when he was on a hunt and the demon or vampire or some other supernatural creature was right behind him, hunting him while he was hunting it. He'd been stealing glances behind him all night, but he'd always been met with a bunch of turned heads. Finally, though, when he'd turned his head for the twentieth time, his efforts were rewarded. His eyes locked onto a pair of emeralds burning holes through his head, and he had to force himself not to turn away. The man those eyes belonged to licked his somewhat pouty lips and smirked, making Castiel swallow hard. His eyes roved over the man's strong jaw and his spiky dirty-blonde hair, down to his muscled chest and strong bowlegs. 

The man threw back the rest of his drink withour breaking eye contact, and confidently made his way over to where Castiel sat. He stood in front of him for a minute, with his eyes still on Castiel. When he realized that the man probably wasn't going to say anything to him, which, by the way, was really creepy, Castiel threw back his drink in an imitation of the stranger standing in front of him, and stood up to face him eye to eye.

"Can I help you?"

The man smiled. "Yes, actually."

Suddenly, Castiel felt a weight on the back of his neck, and a pair of soft lips covering his own. For a minute, all he could do was stand there with his arms hanging down at his sides, until his body took over for his brain, and he wrapped his arms around the other man's waist, and kissed him back, fingers digging into the worn leather of his jacket. Castiel could feel the familiar twitch in his crotch that reminded him just how attractive this guys was, and he knew that the man noticed it too because he felt the man smile into the kiss after a minute, and his brain took back over for him. He pulled away and let his arms hang down by his sides again.

"Well that was rude."

The man looked surprised. "What?"

"You can't just go around kissing people withour their permission. What if I decided to press charges?"

The man smiled. "You won't."

"Why not?"

The man looked down and stared at Castiel's traitorous dick for a moment before responding. "I think you like me too much."

Castiel tried his best to look confident as he stared right back at the other man's crotch. "Touche."

"Well, in that case, why don't we get out of here?"

"Who says I want to?"

"Me."

"You're bossy."

"You're short."

"I like it."

"I know."

Their mouths met again, and this time Castiel wasn't sure who made the first move. As a result, this kiss was more pleasant than the first. It was open mouthed, and Castiel found that he quite liked the taste of this man's tongue on his. They both pulled away at about the same time, and they were both a little breathless.

"So, you wanna get out of here or what?"

"I don't even know your name."

"Well that's half the fun, isn't it?"

Castiel leaned into the man's ear and stated quietly, "That may be, but if I don't know your name, then what am I supposed to scream when I come?" 

The man bit his bottom lip. "Name's Dean."

"I'm Castiel."

"Well then Castiel, does that mean that you want to get out of here after all?" 

"My motel room is just across the street."

Dean practically purred at that. "Then what are we waiting for?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so just so you guys know, there's a little bit of porn in this chapter, and it's the first porn that I've shown to anyone, so I apologize if it's crap. (Oh, and by a little bit of porn, I mean that's basically the whole thing. You're welcome.)

Normally, Dean would have pulled his target into an alley immediately after hooking him, and done his job, but this time he decided to wait. He wasn't sure what it was about Castiel, but this man, this hunter, was different for some reason. Maybe it was the way he was able to stare back at Dean with those breathtaking eyes with almost as much intensity as himself, or maybe it was the way he tasted on Dean's tongue. Whatever it was, Dean decided to have a bit of fun before he completed his mission.

He walked across the street to Castiel's sleazy motel room, occasionally bumping the hunter's shoulder with his own. Every time it happened, Castiel pushed gently pushed back, showing either the need for contact or trying to show dominance, Dean wasn't sure, but either way it meant that the hunter was fucked in more ways than one if this night went like Dean wanted it to.

They reached the room in no time, the already peeling green paint chipping off a little more as Castiel brushed up against it and turned the key. At the force of the door opening, one of the numbers hammered into the wood loosened and swung down so that the numbers now read "69." Dean smiled at the appropriateness (or inappropriateness, as it were) of the situation. Castiel saw his smile, and returned it with a slight eye roll. He stepped inside the room, and as soon as he had done so, Dean was upon him, clutching and grabbing at anywhere he could reach. Castiel pushed Dean's intensity back on him, while somehow managing to kick the door shut. 

Once the room was closed off from the outside world again, Dean turned Castiel around and shoved him roughly up against the door, making it easier to stand and still touch every part of Castiel he could reach. Despite the ferocity with which the demon attacked the hunter, the hunter still managed to volley back every blow Dean threw him. It was strange, recieving this treatment from a partner, since Dean was generally the dominant one, whether because of his natural personality, or the fact that he was a demon, he was unsure. One thing that he was sure about, though, was that he enjoyed this, and he was glad that he had made the decision to hold off killing Castiel long enough to have some fun. The animalistic way that Castiel growled when they licked into eachother's mouths, the way their teeth hit together and their lips bruised from the ferocity with which they kissed and the occasional bites. It was better than anything Dean had experienced from a partner in ages, and in no time at all, Dean could feel his pants strain against him, begging to be let out. He ground against Castiel, and the friction between his dick and Castiel's equally large bulge was enough to send a shiver through both men's bodies. 

Dean wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, with Castiel pinned up against the wall and Dean holding him there, thoroughly attacking each other's faces, but Castiel apparently got fed up with the wall, and pushed Dean stumbling backwards, his knees hitting the side of the mattress, causing him to collapse into a pile of sweaty, aroused demon. It took a couple of seconds for Dean to register that he no longer had his shirt on, and a moment more to realize that it was still gripped in Castiel's hands. When he pushed him back, he must have taken it off. Dean was impressed. It took quite a bit to surprise or confuse him, and so far, this hunter had done both in the space of only a few minutes. That didn't bode well for Dean if Castiel found out he was a demon, but he wouldn't. In the morning, Castiel would be unable to hunt another demon ever again.

Castiel crawled on top of Dean, straddling his thighs, and slowly mouthing his way up the demon's flushed chest. A hard bite to his collar bone caused Dean to moan more than he was used to.

"Cas..." Castiel sat up a little bit, staring at Dean quizzically with lustblown blue. "What?"

"You called me Cas."

"Yeah, Castiel, it's called a nickname. Ever heard of one?"

Castiel frowned and Dean immediately wanted to kiss it away. "Of course I have Dean. It's just that only my family has ever called me that."

Dean sat up and clutched at the hairs at the back of Castiel's neck. "Well, I think I'm about to be closer to you than your family ever has. At least I hope."

Castiel chuckled. "You think you're pretty cute, don't you?"

"I think I'm adorable."

"You thought correctly." Dean crashed their lips together again, this time reaching to unzip Castiel, and Cas, getting the not-so-subtle hint, did likewise to Dean. Undressing while still attatched at the mouth proved harder than the men had hoped, and they had to unlatch themselves for a few seconds before their clothes were just piles on the floor andd nothing was between them. Dean eyed the anti-posession tattoo on Castiel's chest. He felt like an angel, having to ask for permission to come inside someone.

They continued their assault of each other's mouths, and when they came up for air, Dean took them both into his hand, and started stroking them together. Cas let out a gutteral moan, and reached out behind Dean on his right side to where the motel's shitty excuse for a dresser sat next to the bed. He opened the top drawer and immediately pulled out the necessary supplies, looking somewhat triumphant.

"Cas," Dean moaned out, "I need you inside me. Hurry up. Need you inside me so bad." Dean surprised himself with the words. He'd never bottomed before, and had never intended to. He'd always thought of bottomng as a sign of being dominated, and that had never really appealed to him. Until now, at least.

Castiel poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, and reached down to brush against Dean's entrance. "Cas," Dean wasn't sure how much teasing he could handle, "Now." Castiel willingly obliged, slowly pushing a finger inside.

The first finger burned. It was like fire and ice and pain and pleasure all at the same time and Dean wondered why he'd never tried this before. The second and third ones were even better, burning even more as Cas stretched and scissored, and when Castiel finally hit that sweet spot, Dean almost came right then, but stopped himself, because he was determined not to finish before it was done. When Castiel decided that Dean was ready, he pulled his fingers out slowly, ignoring Dean's whimper of loss. (It was only a small whimper, and if asked, Dean would deny it.) He fumbled around for the condom, and when he found it on the bed next to his thigh, he tore it open with his teeth, smiling at the gasp it caused to escape Castiel's mouth, and how the blue became almost non-existent in his eyes. almost as if he were a demon too. He deftly rolled the condom onto Castiel's length, and foregoing the use of his mouth for words, only nodded at Cas to let him know he was ready. He quickly obliged, slowly pushing in, and upon making sure Dean had adjusted well to the intrusion, pulled almost all the way back out, and quickly pushed back in again, starting up a rhythm that had Dean moaning against Castiel's mouth and neck and chest, begging for more. Dean hadn't begged that much since he first got sent to Hell, and as far as comparisons go, Dean liked begging to Castiel far more than begging to Alastair.

Castiel held up his promise, and practically howled Dean's name when a particularly hard bite found its way to the place where his neck met his shoulder, and he came, red hot and pulsing, into the condom and into Dean. The heat was the last straw that tipped the scales, and Dean was coming all over their stomachs, his vision white, and his whole body taken over with pleasure. 

When the men came back down to earth, they slowly rolled over, and Castiel tentatively pulled out of Dean, tying off the condom and throwing it somewhere over the side of the bed. 

"Well that was fun." Cas told the ceiling, as if it hadn't already witnessed everything.

Dean huffed a laugh. "Yeah, a bit." Biggest understatement ever, as far as he was concerned.

"We should probably get cleaned up."

"Yeah, probably." Instead, Dean turned toward Cas, and wrapped his arms around him, prepared to never let go.

"A cuddler, huh?"

"Shut up." Dean mumbled into Castiel's shoulder. Castiel turned towards him and soon fatigue overtook them both as their legs got so tangled neither man was sure what belonged to who, and Dean found himself closer to sleep and closer to happiness than he had in centuries.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this took a little bit to update, I'm just lazy as fuck and if it weren't for a friend begging for this like a druggy after a fix, I probably wouldn't have gotten it out this soon. I am now officially her dealer, I guess. You can thank Satan for this. Send her some whiskey or enough baking chocolate to kill herself with. I'll make her share and we'll all be happy.

When Castiel woke up, the first thing he noticed was that Dean was still curled up next to him their arms circling each other. He was mildly surprised, seeing as he was used to waking up alone after a night of sex. Especially with guys like Dean. The girls would usually stay long enough to kiss him a few more times and write down their number _somewhere_. Guys, however, especially ones like Dean, rarely stayed long enough to fall asleep afterwards, let alone give promises to stay in contact. Not that he cared that much. Castiel probably wouldn't contact them if they did, anyway. In his experience, that was safer.

The second thing that he noticed was that he was really sticky and gross, sweat and come fusing his body to the other man's in a thin film. He carefully untangled himself and made his way to the bathroom to get himself properly cleaned up. The water pressure in the shower was terrible, and the small bar of motel soap did little to lessen the smell of sex that had seeped into his skin as he slept. He should have cleaned up immediately despite Dean's protests. The cuddling had been unexpected, but then again, Dean in and of himself was unpredictable. Castiel hadn't had sex like that in a while.

Despite the motel's distinct lack of water pressure, Cas still let the water roll off him in cold droplets, slowly washing Dean off of his skin. This was one of his rituals. He would always take a shower the morning after, to center him, and to resign himself to the the fact that he'd probably never speak to the person in the next room ever again by baptism via cold shower water.

He pulled the shower curtain back and grabbed one of the too-small cream towels that he was pretty sure used to be white, and quickly scrubbed it through his hair, making it stick up from where the water had forced it to lay flat, and ran it along his body, drying him, for the most part. He wrapped the damp towel around his waist, and walked out of the bathroom to find Dean looking around in sleep induced confusion and running his hands through his spiky bed head.

When Dean caught Castiel's eye, he smirked. "You do realize that it's five-thirty, right? What the hell, man?"

Cas smirked back. "I like to get an early start."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do. You seem like that type of guy."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, man, just... nothing." Dean chuckled nervously. "For a minute, I thought you had left, but I remembered that this is your room, so that would be kind-of stupid." 

"Well I could have skipped town and left you to pay for the room."

"You wouldn't."

"You're right, but I could have done so, had I wished."

"You stuff's still here."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm not leaving yet."

"Awesome." Dean smiled even wider, and before Castiel knew what was happening, he was on his back in the bed, with Dean on top of him. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the towel come undone, now uselessly pinned beneath him. "Because I need your help with something." Cas quickly glanced lower to where he assumed Dean's problem was, and found that he was correct in his assumption.

"Dean..."

"Yeah, Cas?"

"That's normal, it's not really a problem."

"Says you. You probably already took care of yourself in the shower. You shouldn't have, though."

"Dean, that's not-"

"Come on, Cas. You know you want to."

"I really do not want to help you with your-"

"Morning wood?" Dean broke into a fresh grin, leaning down a bit to mouth at his chest and neck. Castiel felt heat start to pool at the base of his stomach, and he tensed. No. This wasn't happening.

"Exactly. Dean, I-" He was cut off by a pair of lips against his own, hot and demanding. He moved his mouth away, but that only served to give Dean access to his neck, where he promptly latched on and started sucking a hickey onto his collarbone. "Dean, stop." 

He did. "Cas-"

"Please, just, I can't, okay?"

"Why not? What's changed since last night?"

"I just make it a rule to never have sex with a person more than once, okay?" Cas could feel his face heating up. He really, _really_ , wanted to break his rule this once. But the other times he _had_ broken the rule, it hadn't ended well. At all.

A grin spread across Dean's face. "I wasn't saying that we should have sex, Cas. Just, you know..." His hand touched Cas' chest, and trailed down his stomach, fingers getting dangerously close to his dick. Dean didn't ask why, like some of his other partners had, he didn't judge, he just tried to find a loophole. Cas liked that, and ultimately, that's what made him bring his lips up to meet Dean's again, and allowed Dean to take him in hand. Cas did likewise, and together, they started working up a rythym that had them both panting against each other like they were starved for air.

"So does that mean you've changed your mind?" Dean grinned yet again, because he already knew the answer. 

"Shut up, Dean." He surged forward, their mouths meeting with teeth clashing and tongues licking, fusing them together. They continued rubbing together until Castiel could fell himself getting close, desperate for more. 

Much too quickly, he felt his body tense up, and waves of white-hot pleasure wracked his entire being as he spurted all over his previously clean stomach, and, soon after, so did Dean. He ran his hands through Dean's hair, soothing him through his orgasm. This time, though, when the other man collapsed on top of him, Cas pushed him off immediately. Dean looked indignantly up at him from his place on the bed.

"What was that for?"

"If I let you stay on top of me, you'll want to cuddle again, and I don't want to wake up sticky and gross again." 

"That's half the fun, now isn't it?"

"No, it fucking isn't." Castiel pulled the towel out from beneath himself and began cleaning up the mess they'd made. "I just took a shower, too..." 

Dean's lips quirked up into a small smile. He seemed to be doing that a lot, smiling. "Oh, you poor soul..." He mocked.

"Shut up, I like to be hygenic." He sat up and started searching for his clothes. Once he had located them, he got up and picked them up off the floor.

"Getting dressed so soon?"

"Yeah, I have to go."

"What, you got a date or something?" Cas looked over and gave Dean the most unimpressed look he could muster.

"Yeah, with my family. They're expecting me home today."

"Eww, incest." Cas threw a pair of pants at his head. "Kidding, gosh. Where do they live?"

"South Dakota."

"Long drive." Dean mused.

"Tell me about it. That's why I didn't go home right away last night and stayed here."

"And isn't it lucky for me that you did?"

"Uh-huh, now go take a shower while I pack up my stuff. You smell gross."

"Shut up, I smell awesome."

"You smell like my come, Dean."

Dean stodd up and mad his way over to the bathroom door. "Exactly." Cas just shook his head at him. "I'll try not to take too long a shower."

"Okay, sure thing." 

As Cas pulled his clothes on, he could hear the sound of the shower trickling to life on the other side of the thin wall. Dean was naked in there. Cas shook his head. No. It was one night slightly extended into the morning. That's all. He blamed Dean for the thoughts running rampant through his mind. He should never have agreed to more. Especially after his ritual. As a hunter, rituals mean everything.

He stuffed his dirty clothes and the half empty bottle of lube into his duffel bag along with his Angel Blade, gun, some salt, holy water, and his demon-hunting knife. He found the tied-off condom on the floor near the door when he almost stepped on it. He tossed it in the trash, careful to make sure that it actually hit its mark this time.

He was just lacing up his boots when Dean walked out, completely naked, having forgone the uselessly tiny towels. "Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Dean." Cas finished with his boots, and brought his hands up to his currently open button-down, his fingers starting to fumble with the buttons.

"I think you should leave it open, Cas."

"I don't. I'ts cold outside."

"You also didn't think you should give me a handjob, and look how wrong you were."

Cas just rolled his eyes and continued with the buttons. Suddenly, he felt hands on his, stopping him, and warm breath close to his mouth. "Dean-" Cas looked up at Dean's freckled nose, feeling his breath catching. It'd been harder to tell last night in the haze of alchohol and the dark, but now that he really looked, he realized just how gorgeous Dean really was. The way those lips always seemed to quirk into a smile, and how the grin never really seemed to reach his eyes, even though he had crinkles in the corners, as if it usually did. 

"Cas..." Dean's lips met his once more, soft and tentative. Cas pulled away.

"Dean, I really have to go. Please get dressed."

"Yeah, sure thing, Cas." Dean backed off, looking around for his clothes, until he realized that Cas had set them all out on the bed. He smiled in thanks that still didn't show in the top half of his face. Once he'd finally pulled on his jacket and nodded that he was ready to go, Cas grabbed the keys to his car and the room, and politely held the door open for Dean. They both walked out into the chill morning air, the sun barely coming up on the horizon. Cas made to go to his car, and Dean made to go the other way, but at the last minute, Dean turned around and stopped Cas from leaving too. He kissed him heatedly one more time, licking into his mouth, not quite as ferociously as the night before, but still enough to leave Cas panting white puffs into the January air. "See you around, Cas."

"Goodbye, Dean. See you." Cas was sure that he wouldn't. That was just something that people say. He got into his car, and started it up. He quickly dropped his room key off at the motel office, and was speeding off home.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 As soon as Cas' car was out of sight, Dean slammed his head against the rough brick of the motel's outside wall. He was so stupid. He had so many fucking chances to off the guy, but he hadn't. Both Abaddon _and_ Crowley had trusted him with this mission, and he'd completely fucked it up. Why hadn't he just killed him? It would have been so much easier. 

The truth of the matter was, Dean didn't know. He's slept with the guy, but that hadn't stopped him before. He was a _demon._ There was just something about him that made Dean want to not kill him. It didn't matter, though, because he had to. If he didn't complete his mission, he was dead, or back on the torture rack for the rest of eternity. He didn't want either. There was still hope, since he'd never been given a date that the guy had to be dead by, just, _As soon as possible_. He lived in South Dakota, how hard could it be to find him? _Castiel_ wasn't exactly a common name. It would be easier to track him down, but the anti-posession tattoo he had made things difficult. He was just a low-level demon, after all.

Dean was about to just teleport somewhere in South Dakota and find a phonebook, until a gleam caught his eye. Across the parking lot sat a sleak, black, badass-looking muscle car. He unlocked the door with no problem, and looked in the glove box. According to the owner's manual, the car was a _1967 Chevy Impala_ , and was registered to _Sal Moriarty_. Not anymore. Dean turned the car on, stepped on the gas, and sped off to South Dakota after Castiel. 

He wasn't sure why he'd taken the car, either. It was slow and loud, but Dean supposed that some mysteries are supposed to be left unsolved.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so the smut in this chapter is also Satan's fault. I wasn't even gonna do any but she was all, "At least something quick. God damn" and then I protested, but she digitally narrowed her eyes at me and said, "At least give him a hand job, Jesus Christ. I'm dying here." and I relented and now I'm a total sellout. I blame you for this, Satan.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the slow updates, but I currently have three WIP's going on, despite my better judgement, so the updates are just gonna have to be slow. Sorry about that.

The sun had already set when Castiel arrived at Bobby's house, the only light outside being cast by the full moon. He shuddered. The full moon was the busiest time of month. Almost like periods for Hunters. Complete with lots of pain, blood, and howling.

He carefully made his way up the creaky old steps of the house, attempting to make as little noise as possible. The whole effort proved to be futile, however, when the door flew open and Castiel was being crushed by thin, yet strong arms. The grip was so tight that he found it hard to take in air.

"J-Jody! Can't. Bre-"

"I know, Cas. I know. You deserve to not breathe for a little for what you did."

"Jody, that's not-" He was cut off again by added pressure to his arms as Jody pulled him even closer. When she finally released him, he just stared at her blankly, worried that if he spoke Jody would hug him again, or try to kill him. Either way, he deserved it.

Jody was the first to break the silence. "Alright, Cas. Come inside. We need to have a talk."

"I'm twenty six, Jody-"

"Don't make me use my mom voice!" At this, Castiel obediently followed after Jody's retreating back as she entered the house through the weather-beaten screen door.

Bobby looked up from the dusty leather volume he was searching through, and shut it. "So you're not dead." He ground out in a faux-nonchalant voice instead of greeting Castiel like a normal person. Hunters are strange like, that. Although, if the only thing you can say about a person is that they pronounce that you're not dead instead of saying hello, or something, then they probably aren't a hunter.

"It does appear that way, doesn't it?"

A flash of anger crossed Bobby's eyes, and he stood from behind his desk, making his way over to Castiel. For the second time in five minutes, Castiel was worried that he was going to get attacked by the closest thing he had to parents. And, for the second time in five minutes, he was wrong. Bobby pulled him into an even bigger hug, and this time, he held the other man back. "I'm sorry, Bobby."

"I know, idjit." He pulled back and fixed Castiel with a hard look. "We still need to talk about this."

"Can we not?"

"No. This is very-"

"I mean not now. I know we have to talk about it eventually, but can we not right now? I'm tired. All I want is to say hello to Charlie and go to bed."

Bobby ran a hand over his face and through his hair. The calluses on his fingers caught on some of his more pronounces wrinkles. Hunting isn't known for helping people age well.

"Yeah, fine."

"Thanks, Bobby." Castiel called over his shoulder on his way to the stairs.

"Oh, and Cas?" Castiel stopped midstep, completely frozen. What now? _  
_

"Yes?"

"Next time you have a night out, make sure to wash up. You smell like sex, boy."

Castiel could feel his face heat up, and he seemed to no longer be able to for a coherent sentence. "Uh, umm... yea- um... sure..." He could hear Bobby's laughter coupled with Jody's as he tried to outrun his embarrassment up the stairs. Dammit, Dean.

In his hurry to get to his room, he opened the wrong door and promptly closed it, his face heating up impossibly more. "Cas! What have I told you about knocking?" The door opened again, this time not of Castiel's doing. He stood facing the sixteen-year-old, who, right then, looked as fiery as her hair. 

"To not do it."

"Yes, but my exact words were, "When the room's rocking, don't come knocking." _Not_ knocking when the room's rocking is even worse."

"My apologies. I meant to go into my room."

"Uh-huh. Sure, Cas." Charlie rolled her eyes, all anger gone. She opened her arms wide in invitation. "Come here." He wrapped his arms around her slender frame and squeezed like he'd never see her again. Out of everyone, it was Charlie that he'd miss the most if he died. She pulled back after a minute, her face scrunched up in disgust. "Eww, Cas. You smell like-"

"Semen?" He quirked his lips into a small smile.

"Umm, super eww? How would I know what semen smells like, Cas?"

Castiel snuck a look into the open doorway of Charlie's room, and, having re-affirmed that Charlie was definitely still her old self replied with "Fair point. Does the new object of your affections have a name?"

A pink color tinged Charlie's cheeks. "Gilda."

"Nice name."

"Yeah, it is. Now," She pulled away, making to head into her room again, "if you will excuse me, I was kind-of in the middle of something."

"Yeah. Got it. Good night Charlie."

"Night, Cas."

The door closed, and Castiel made his way down the hall to his own bedroom. He carefully made his way around the clutter litering the floor in the broken darkness. He toed off his boots, and let the blankets on his bed encompass his still fully clothed body as he slipped into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my Tumblr! It's hallucinogenicpandas.tumblr.com
> 
> Yay shameless advertising!

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment with feedback! Did you like it? Did you hate it? Tell me what you thought, though please no "This was absolutely perfect" 's or "This was crap I hate it" 's. If you do, TELL ME WHY. I can't get better if I don't get constructive criticism.


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